Trying Not To Love You
by stephy.xo
Summary: A difficult case and a bottle of scotch leads to Tiva waking up the next morning unsure as to what actually happened and what that means for rule twelve. multichap tiva.
1. Loverboy

****Hiii. Right. So, my first multi-chap NCIS fic. Kind of daunting.

This is a tiva fic through and through, and whilst it won't always be plain sailing, keep that in mind.

I suck at summaries, so please just read and let me know what you think.

quick disclaimer. i own nothing, apart from some well-watched dvds.

**Trying Not to Love You**

**Chapter One: Loverboy**

_i._

_[this is the night you'll regret in the morning]_

Ziva woke as the warmth from the man's body next to her eased her back to consciousness. Her head ached, her heart felt heavy in her chest with the memory of the previous night's happenings. The assassin in her let her slip from under the arm draped over her undetected. Soundlessly, she placed her feet on the thick carpet, the contact sending waves of pain through her body, culminating in a sharp throbbing in her head.

She eyed the man who had slept next to her and shook her head: he was snoring lightly, a peaceful, content expression on his features. Ziva resisted the urge to reach over and tousle his hair; she couldn't deny that he was at his most adorable in that moment. She blinked twice and pushed herself to stand, forcing all sentimental thoughts from her mind. This should not have happened. She had known that sharing the majority of a bottle of whiskey with one other person would not end well, and sharing the majority of a bottle of whiskey with _him_ – of all people, **him** – would end up excruciatingly. In normal circumstances, of course, it wouldn't have even crossed her mind. But the case at work wasn't getting solved, and every time they found the grisly remains of another girl's body, the further they felt from okay.

Gibbs had sent them home, telling them they needed to rest. It had been 5 o'clock, and his three team members had looked at him as if he were insane.  
"We're not doing any good here," he had told them, and deep down they had known he was right. "We've spent three hours sleeping in the last three days, and when we're like this, we're just chasing our tails whilst the guy doing this is watching and laughing."

Before Ziva had even left the Navy Yard, she had known she wasn't going to spend long at her apartment. Each victim had been brunette, with dark eyes and a law enforcement background. It wasn't that she thought she was next, but the thought of being alone unsettled her. She showered to try to rinse the day's unpleasantness off her body, and as she closed her eyes to let the water jets wash over her, images of the latest corpse assailed her. She shuddered, and sped up, letting her fear of fear motivate her. She hadn't bothered to dry her hair; she just grabbed an overnight bag and a bottle of whiskey from a kitchen cupboard on her way out of the door. For once, she drove calmly, trying to tell herself that she wasn't headed to _his_. She didn't need his comfort, she didn't need him to feel safe. He was just… convenient. He wouldn't ask questions, they could just watch a movie, have a drink and ignore anything serious in the world. She made a quick stop on her way to pick up pizza, and then before she knew it, she was standing at his door.

Now, nearly twelve hours later, she stood under his shower, the warm jets of water doing nothing to ease the hangover that had settled over her. She shut her eyes, and suddenly the images that attacked her were much more vivid, but no longer of battered, bruised and abused bodies: his lips brushing hers, jolting a spark through her body; her hands and fingers tangled in his hair, and his in hers; the words he had whispered to her, and how beautiful they had been. She shuddered: this was not who she was. He was off-limits, and even if he wasn't, she wouldn't want anything to do with him.

She crept out of his bathroom, and eyed the sleeping form carefully: he had definitely not stirred in her absence, and she was sure she could get out of his apartment without waking him. She mulled the concept over, realising he would remember her arriving the night before, even if she could persuade him that any details of the night's activities were fabricated by whiskey and his fantasies. She turned on his coffee machine, leaving enough evidence of her having been there so as to stop it looking like she was running from him. She grabbed a travel cup, knowing she could return it without him noticing it had gone and filled it with the strong, dark liquid. She left enough in the pot for him when he woke, knowing that he had had even more to drink than she had, and that he would definitely need it. She grabbed a pack of aspirin and filled a glass with water, leaving them on the counter for him.

Before she left she returned to his bedroom, unable to resist a final glance at his sleeping form. She eyed him from the doorway, not wanting to tear her eyes away. In this moment – the morning after the night before, the alcohol clear of her system, the cold light of day paining her every move – she couldn't lie to herself: he was more than just a partner; he was more than a friend. She wasn't sure how it had happened, but somehow she had started to feel… something for him.

It was with that realisation that she turned on her heel abruptly, unable to stay this close to him without suffocating. Soundlessly she scooped up her bag and her coffee, making it to the door in record time. As his front door clicked shut behind her, she promised herself that this would not happen again. Ziva David would absolutely _not_ fall in love with Tony DiNozzo.

_ii._

_[with arms wide open, I'm the option you shouldn't have chosen]_

As consciousness slowly returned to Tony DiNozzo, he became acutely aware of the stabbing pain throbbing behind his eyeballs. It was, he realised as he woke up, going to be one of the worst hangovers he'd had in months, maybe years. He had doubtlessly drunk too far too much last night – unusual in the middle of a case, but this was turning out to be one of the messiest cases he'd worked on at NCIS. He had drunk more than he was now used to, and he knew that the team would enjoy the predictability of it being _him_ showing up the worse for wear, unable to remember all of last night and smelling like a distillery.

He slowly edged toward the edge of his bed, making an attempt to get up and face the day when he remembered that Ziva had shown up last night. Although he hadn't exactly expected her, he hadn't been altogether surprised either: they often spent evenings watching a movie and sharing a pizza with a bottle of beer. He had seen a darkness in her eyes earlier that day, and although it had been the only sign that this case was bothering her more than any other, he had considered it a possibility that he would find her on his doorstep that evening, pizza in one hand and beer in the other. It was the bottle of scotch in place of beer that had surprised him.

The walls spun around him as he stood up and he became even more aware of the sour, stale scotch tang coating his mouth. He went straight to the bathroom, and turned on the shower. He gargled a mouthful of Listerine as he waited to see the steam rising from the shower cubicle, hoping to make himself feel at least clean, if nothing else. As the alcohol in the mouthwash burned his tongue, he thought back to the night before. He remembered refilling both his and Ziva's glasses several times, with generous measures. He remembered laughing with her, as the alcohol infected their blood and clouded their judgement.

He spat the green liquid into his sink before stepping under the water's flow. The water burned at his back as he thought of the dreams he'd had of her last night: how vivid, how frenzied, how perfect they had been. His reverie had given him a glimpse of what he would never get to see, and now that he was waking up and he realised how happy his dream had made him, it stung. Usually, he could deny the fact that he was in love with her, even to himself, but this morning it was proving more tricky than usual. He still felt a little swell of pride that _she chose him_ to keep her company last night, that she wanted to rest her head on _his _shoulder, and she bought _his_ favourite pizza. It gave him hope, and when he combined the hope with the sheer passion that the Ziva in his dream had shown for him last night… well, he struggled.

As the remnants of sleep washed off him, he shut off the water jets and stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist. As he turned his back to the mirror, he noticed the red scratches marking his back, and he vaguely wondered what he'd done to himself. Had he been less hungover, he would have chuckled, as they matched the way Dream Ziva had scratched his back as she had moaned his name. He ventured to the kitchen in search for aspirin, and found that before she had left, Ziva had left fresh coffee and aspirin for him. Tony smiled, allowing the satisfaction of knowing that she cared at least a little bit. The thought motivated him to get to work to see his beautiful Israeli, and to put an end to the case that was clearly troubling her more than most, and in haste to get ready for work, he didn't notice the lack of blankets left on the couch where she usually slept, nor how un-made his bed was on both sides.

As his front door clicked shut behind him, he pushed through the throbbing in his head to feel optimism for his day. Little did he know that within the hour, he would regret setting himself up for such great disappointment.

* * *

Erm, yeah. Thanks for reading. Feedback and concrit are very much welcomed.

-stephy xo


	2. Liquid Confidence

hiii. So I'm the world's worst updater, simply because shortly after I started writing the start of this chapter, life got a little messier than I would like. Six months later, and everything has stabilised at last, and although I'm not happy with how this chapter ends, I think it's kind of okay overall. It'll do, anyway.  
A huge thank you to everyone who followed, favourited and reviewed the first chapter. Updates will come much quicker from now on. =]

This is unbeta'ed, so all mistakes are my own. Passages in italics are Ziva's flashbacks.

I also own nothing, except a lot of DVDs.

* * *

**Chapter Two: Liquid Confidence**

_i.  
[You are an example of better things to come]  
_

Ziva had been in the squad room for over an hour when Tony arrived at 0700. The instant she heard the ping of the elevator doors, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck bristle. All of a sudden, she felt unsure of herself: a feeling that only DiNozzo could evoke in her. She barely even flicked her eyes up at him in greeting, even though she could feel his eyes piercing into her. Tony took the hint that for some reason, she was ignoring him, and though he wasn't entirely sure as to why, the case was more important than finding out why. He turned his attention to McGee, who had grunted a greeting without looking up.

"You're concentrating awfully hard over there, McGoo, you got something?"  
"Ziva might be on to something, I'm just chasing a couple of leads for her," the reply was succinct, but given how the case had been getting to each member of the team, Tony did not mind.  
"Alright!" Tony almost cheered, thrilled that they had finally found a break. "What do you need me to do, David?"  
"The personal trainer, need a full background. He just seems to have appeared in 2005, from skinny air," Ziva explained.  
"Thin," came the reply, causing her to raise an eyebrow. "It's thin air, not skinny air."  
"Same thing," Ziva muttered under her breath, ensuring that Tony could not hear.

Whilst he did as she had asked, he was only half able to focus. He didn't know why, but it definitely seemed that she was annoyed with him. In the years they had worked together, she had never not acknowledged his arrival. He scoured his memory of the night before to figure out what he had said that had caused offence, but he soon realised it was useless: his mind was too fuzzy, the line between reality and his fantasy too blurred. For a split second, he considered the notion that his fantasy had been real, and he had finally told her how he felt and everything had spiralled from there. He almost laughed out loud at that. As much as he gave off an air of confidence in the squadroom, he knew she was way out of his league. In truth, he was a little bit intimidated by pretty much everything about her. She was the smartest girl – no, he corrected himself, _woman_ – that he had ever met, and her attitude and humour and personality and bravery and just everything added to her natural beauty. Despite all the teasing and the flirting and the little touches, he knew she would never be interested in him. _"Get it together, DiNozzo,"_ he thought to himself, _"You've got a serial killer to catch."_

At 0830, Gibbs hurried down the stairs from the director's office, instilling a new sense of frenzy in the team.  
"Please tell me we've got _something_?" He called as he rounded the corner, noticing the unusual silence in the bullpen. All three of his team scurried from their seats to form a semi-circle around the plasma screen, practically bursting with excitement from what they had found.  
"James Taylor, the personal trainer," Tony began, "seems to be connected with all of the victims. Ziva picked up on it this morning."  
"We know that he had previously dated the second victim, Danielle Golding, and that Petty Officer Harrison was a current client. But it looked like he had no links to the others. But James Taylor entered the witness protection program in 2004. He used to be Harry Mansfield: different appearance, different job, different social security number," Ziva explained, letting McGee take over.  
"It turns out that Mansfield went to UCLA with the first vic, Sarah Smith. It also seems he went to the same high school with Detective Griffith in North Carolina. At UCLA he was studying medicine, so would have had some of the medical training that Ducky suggested the guy we're looking for has," McGee paused, and Tony jumped in.  
"Abby said that from the tyre tracks, we're looking for a Toyota Tundra. Taylor doesn't have one of those, but the guy he lives with, one Guy Fitzroy, has a black 2009 Tundra. Shall we bring him in?" Tony practically bounced with excitement in front of Gibbs.  
"Tony, with me," Gibbs nodded, before going to his desk draw for his gun. "McGee, Ziva, see if you can find out anything about his relationships with Smith and Griffith, see if there's a motive."

* * *

"_We should stop drinking," Ziva giggled, feeling the alcohol warming her veins.  
"Nahhh," Tony answered lazily, from his space next to her on the couch. "You're fun when you're drunk."  
"Am I not usually fun?" She asked, faking offence, sitting upright and turning to face him straight on.  
"You know that's not what I meant, Zi. You know that my favourite way to spend an evening is with you." She responded only by staring at him. Tony panicked and he tried to back-track, "I mean, not favourite. It's okay, it gets pretty stressful, especially when you spend the night on my couch. I hate you sleeping on my couch, Zi."  
"Oh," she whispered, turning away from him, hurt. "I can't drive home, I'll call a cab and then be out of your way."  
"No, Zi, that's not what I meant," he grabbed her hand before she could stand, lightly pulling her closer to him. "I would never normally tell you this, but seeing as it was you who brought the whiskey, you have to deal with the consequences. I hate you sleeping on my couch because I wish that you would be sleeping with me instead. In my room. In my bed, I mean. With me. Then I could wake up with you and it would be like you're really mine, as opposed to just your last resort when you're bored," his rambling was stopped by her lips on his. Just as he registered what was happening her mouth left his, leaving a tingling that wasn't there before.  
"You're not my last resort, Tony," she whispered._

* * *

Ziva brought her attention back from the night before and focused on the computer screen in front of her. The more she found out, the more certain she became that Taylor – or Mansfield, whatever he was called – was guilty. Reports from the guy's high school said that he'd become obsessed with Griffith. The girl's boyfriend had once put him in hospital after he had been following her home. Ziva shuddered; the more she looked at his photo, the more uneasy she felt. She started putting together a report for Gibbs to read before the interrogation, and hoped that it would all be over by lunchtime.

"Abby just called from the lab," McGee called over to her. "The blood we found at the Smith crime scene that we couldn't identify? It was in the system under Mansfield, rather than as Taylor."  
"Good, it seems like we've got him then," she responded.  
"Yep. Good work, I don't know what time you got here this morning but that was great thinking," he smiled at her.  
"I was here a little before six, I always wake up early in the middle of a case. But thanks, Tim."  
"It seems that Tony was the only one of us who could get a decent night's sleep, huh?"  
"I guess so," Ziva answered non-committedly, "Although a couple of beers probably helped that."  
"Beer helped what?" Gibbs spoke brusquely as he walked to his desk.  
"Erm, nothing, boss," McGee answered quickly. "Abby called, we've got Taylor's blood at the scene."  
"I heard back from the high school, apparently he was crazy about Griffith. So much so that they moved him out of her classes, and when he started following her home, her boyfriend put him in hospital," Ziva contributed.  
"I got hold of Smith's college roommate, turns out she now lives in Fairfax. Apparently Smith once went out with a Harry Mansfield. After they broke up, she ended up needing a restraining order."  
"Good work. We've got him in interrogation, he's denying knowing anything about witness protection. McGee, grab me a coffee, I need to figure out how to break him."

Ziva left the bullpen to head down to interrogation. She idly wondered why Tony had not come back with Gibbs but as the elevator doors opened in front of her, she came face to face with him.

"Going down?" He asked with a lopsided grin. Wordlessly, she stepped in beside him, and watched as he depressed the button to the lower floor. "You know, this journey might be more pleasant if you were talking to me," he said quietly when she still refused to make a sound.  
"About what, exactly?" she asked icily. Instantly, his hand was on the emergency stop button.  
"About whatever it is that I have done that is making you this cold to me, Zi. I don't remember what I said to you last night, but I'm sorry." She raised an eyebrow at that.  
"You don't remember?"  
"No, Zi, I don't. I'm sure I was a jackass because I had too much to drink, and whatever it was I didn't mean it," Tony pleaded. Ziva let the words sink in and nodded almost imperceptibly.  
"Okay, DiNozzo," the words were almost whispered as she reached round him and hit the emergency button again. The elevator groaned as it restarted, signalling the end of their conversation.

It took eighty-three minutes for Gibbs to get a confession out of Taylor, leaving the team to spend the rest of the day to spend on paperwork. For Tony and Ziva, this was done in near silence, both pre-occupied with thoughts of the other: Tony wondering what he had done wrong; Ziva wondering why her heart had felt heavier since Tony had told her he hadn't meant what he had said. The quiet left both McGee and Gibbs confused. McGee tried to put it down to tiredness, although he knew that sleep deprivation would usually make Tony even more boisterous than normal. Gibbs tried not to notice, and tried to avoid theorising. He knew that one day, Ziva and DiNozzo would attempt to break rule twelve, and he would have to break up his family. He just hoped that this silence was because DiNozzo had said something stupid, rather than anything more sinister. Somehow, though, he just didn't think that was it.

It had gone three in the afternoon when Ziva realised she had left Tony's travel coffee cup on her desk and she cursed herself. _"Way to be subtle, David,"_ she thought, as she tried to quickly remove it from sight without raising suspicion. It was only Tony who noticed the action, but by the time he looked up, all evidence of her being at his apartment had been removed. Sure, he knew something was missing from her desk, he just couldn't put his finger on what.

_ii.  
[you've got nothing to lose, except for me and you]_

The clock seemed to crawl toward 1800, each minute taking longer than the last. Usually diligent workers, for once both Tony and Ziva had switched off their computers at 1759, and were putting on their coats by 1800. Ziva was out first, and Tony loitered long enough to just miss the elevator that she had called.

Before Tony had even left the Navy Yard, he had known he wasn't going to spend long at his apartment. The day had not gone well in terms of his friendship with Ziva and in truth, he was scared that whatever he had said would stop her coming over, watching a movie, and sleeping at his. It wasn't that he thought it could lead to more, he was just thrilled that he could mean something to her. He showered, trying to wake himself up and make himself presentable for the excursion he was about to make. He tried to drive calmly, but somehow couldn't. He chuckled as he considered the concept of Ziva having rubbed off on him. He made a couple of quick stops on his way, but before he knew it, he was stood at Ziva's door.

* * *

"_Oh, Ziva, why did you do that?" Tony groaned.  
"You were rambling and it seemed like the best way to stop you," she started. She had barely finished her final syllable when she felt his mouth crash into hers. Everything melted away as their mouths moved together. She parted her lips to give his tongue access, and she became vaguely aware of his hands tangling in her hair. It took her longer than usual to pull back, the need for air seeming less urgent than it should.  
"That was…" He started, "What was that?" He looked at her blankly, confused.  
She giggled, "Are you like this with all of your girls?"  
He pulled her towards him brushing her lips with his thumb, "What girls, Zi? I stopped dating a while back, when I realised… nothing."  
As he trailed off, she quickly launched herself at him and tickled him, "Tell me!" She laughed as he squirmed, not expecting him to flip her so that she was lying on her back, he holding himself over her. He grazed his lips over hers.  
"Ti amo, bella."_

* * *

Ziva wiped a tear from her eye as she rose to answer the knock at the door. She knew without opening the door that it would be Tony, and if she had thought about it, she should have known he would show up. What she wasn't expecting was the huge bouquet of red roses that greeted her.  
"Hi," Tony spoke first, taking in Ziva's stunned expression. "Can I come in?" Wordlessly, she moved out of his way, and as he crossed her threshold he passed her the flowers. "These are, obviously, for you. I also come bearing pizza, because I know I've messed up and I'm sorry and I wanted to talk to you."  
She waved him into the kitchen, as she went to find a vase. Less than a minute later, she moved soundlessly into the same room as Tony only to find him pale and motionless with shock.  
"What is it?" She asked.  
"You have my coffee cup," the words were staccato and hollow, as the realisation hit him.  
"Yes."  
"You stayed over?" he sought confirmation of what he already knew.  
"Yes."  
"No blankets on the couch, though," he looked directly at her, trying to gauge her reaction to his words.  
"No. No blankets on the couch," Ziva met his gaze as Tony realised that his night of passion with Ziva hadn't been a dream. He smiled to himself, and then realised the bigger picture.  
"I told you… I told you that I love…" he stopped himself, unable to finish the sentence.  
"Yes," she whispered the response, unsure what to read into his reaction.  
"Oh, shit."

* * *

Well folks, that's chapter two. Concrit is hugely valued: feedback is the breakfast of champions =]

-stephy xo


	3. Everything Has Changed

happy new year :] once again I am sorry this has taken me so long to update, in my defence I had a bunch of exams and then was out of the country for two weeks… on the bright side I do now have a fair bit of spare time on my hands so hopefully I'll be able to get ahead with some writing for the busier times. Or at least that is the plan anyway :] I would like to thank the 60ish people who have followed this story. Thank you so much! And to my reviewers… wow, thank you for taking some time to do that. You're all amazing. Encouragement makes me type faster :]

This is unbeta'ed, so all mistakes are my own. I also own nothing, except a lot of DVDs.

* * *

**Trying Not To Love you**

**Chapter Three: Everything Has Changed**

_i._

_[All I've seen since eighteen hours ago is green eyes, and freckles and your smile]  
_

Before any words had the time to reach Tony's mouth, Ziva spoke up.  
"It's okay, you didn't mean it, it was just the scotch," she shrugged. He dropped his eyes to the floor, not wanting to tell her the truth. She continued, "Sorry I was off with you this morning, but I think we cleared everything up in the elevator."  
"Ziva, what I said in the elevator… I thought I had said something horrible to you that had upset you and you were angry, I didn't realise I had said _that_," he tried to reason.  
"It's fine, Tony, I understand. We were drunk. You said something, I reacted in a certain way, and one thing led to another. It's not a large deal," DiNozzo watched her as she spoke, her shoulders hunched, her eyes sticking to anything except him. Her words frustrated him, and he knew that she had no intention of accepting his feelings for her.  
"So you want everything to go back to normal, and we pretend this never happened?" He clarified.  
"I don't really see that we have any option, DiNozzo," she forced herself to be strong, and stared directly into his eyes, trying to mean the words that fell from her lips.  
"So you want to ignore how well we get on, how much we care about and how mind-blowing last night was, David?" He retorted in kind, and a stab of pain hit her heart as she heard the distress in his voice.  
"Mindblowing? You clearly think a lot of yourself! And in case you had not noticed, I get on with McGee and Abby too, I care about them too, that doesn't mean I need to start relationships with them!" She hissed the words, angry at the sudden acknowledgement of their feelings.  
"I don't quite know where to start with any of what you just said. It was mindblowing, I woke up this morning thinking it was the greatest dream I had ever had, and you seemed to agree last night," he winked at her as he said it, knowing that it would provoke a reaction in her. "And who exactly are you trying to kid? Half of the office think that we're together as it is, everyone can see that we are more than partners to each other!" He paused and added finally, "And who said anything about a relationship?"  
"Oh come on, Tony, if you don't mean you want a relationship then what are you suggesting?" She didn't dare to comment on exactly how good the previous night had been for fear of giving herself away.  
"I didn't suggest anything. You know exactly how I feel about you, Zi. It's up to you whether you want to do anything about it," the words came out barely above a whisper, and he wanted to curse himself for being so weak. Ziva's eyes narrowed as she processed what he had said.  
"And if I want to go on as if this never happened?"  
"Then that's what we do. We pretend there is nothing between us and we pretend that we wouldn't be incredible together. All I want is for you to be happy, Zi. I just really hope that you want to be happy with me." Ziva watched him as the words tumbled from his brain: he shifted his weight from foot to foot; he stuffed his hands in his pockets; his eyes darted around the room.  
"And what of Rule 12?" she asked, and he raised his eyebrows, perplexed.  
"Well what about it?"  
"You want me to be happy with you. What do you propose to do about Rule 12? Gibbs will kick one or both of us off the team, and it could all be for nothing."  
Tony couldn't stop himself from cracking a grin, "Zi, I think we both know that it wouldn't be for nothing. But honestly, I don't know what we'd do, we'll figure it out somehow, okay?"  
She nodded, "I can think about it?"  
"Sure. I don't want to force you into anything. I'll go home, and we'll pretend it never happened unless you tell me otherwise, okay?" The thought of leaving her tonight killed him, but Tony knew he was far too close to scaring her away.  
She nodded her assent, and walked back to her front door with him. As her hand hit the handle, she turned to kiss him on the cheek, as she always did when he was about to leave. Her lips hit his skin and she felt the fireworks come back. Without realising what she was doing she quickly grazed her lips on his, and she heard him let out a groan as he retaliated, his mouth attacking hers in response. Ziva felt the blood rush through her veins and wondered for a moment whether he could hear how fast her heart was beating because of him. He forced himself to pull away, despite how it was only whilst he was kissing Ziva David that he felt at peace.  
"I should go," he whispered.  
"Don't," it was a plea and he knew it, but he quickly turned away. He covered her hand with hers, and pulled open the door and slipped out. "Tony, wait," Ziva called to his back, but to no avail. He kept walking, his back disappearing around the corner to the stairwell of her building.

She listened to his shoes treading down the stairs and mentally kicked herself. She had no reason to think about anything: she knew exactly what she wanted to come of this situation. After closing the door she leaned against it, sighing deeply and closing her eyes. Immediately she was assailed by images of Tony: how delicately he had kissed her; how beautifully the words had slipped from his lips; how his bright green eyes glittered and sparkled when he smiled. It pained her to realise exactly how she felt about him; it seemed so futile to deny that she could fall in love with him in a heartbeat, if she would just let herself. She sauntered back to her kitchen to make herself dinner and take her mind off her sudden realisation, but it was useless. Every thought led her straight back to him. She cursed herself for being like a lovesick teenager, there had to be more to her Friday evening than thinking about Tony DiNozzo.

As Tony opened his car door, he was hit by the scent of the pizza he had picked up earlier, which was cooling on his back seat. He decided to wait in his car for ten minutes, just in case Ziva made up her mind. He knew that if she decided she wanted him, he wouldn't be able to waste a minute more without her. He reclined his seat a little, and tried to tell himself it was more like a stake out than stalking. He tried not to let his mind wander back to Ziva whilst he waited, although in his heart of hearts he knew that she would be all that he would think about until she called him. He tried to decide what would happen if they were in a movie: would he skulk back to his apartment only to find she was already on his doorstep, or would he have kissed her with such force that she barely knew her own name, so that she had refused to let him leave. Idly, he explored where the latter scenario would lead, how their second night together would differ from their first, how it would feel to be with her sober. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't notice Ziva spot him from her window.

_ii._

_[all I feel in my stomach is butterflies, the beautiful kind, making up for lost time]_

Ziva couldn't help but be charmed when she noticed his car parked on the opposite side of her street. His devotion to her crystallised, she sighed happily, realising that holding back with Tony wasn't going to help matters. Sliding her cell phone from her pocket of her jeans, she hit Tony's speed dial and waited for him to answer.

"Hello?" Tony answered, barely able to keep the grin from his voice.  
"How long were you planning on sitting there, Tony?" she didn't bother greeting him, wanting to get over the pretence of him having left quickly. He responded with silence, so Ziva spoke again. "Your car is still outside."  
"Oh, um," embarrassed about being caught, he opted to change subject. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of hearing from you?"  
"Do you want to come in?"  
"Nice avoidance there," he chuckled, "You know the answer to that, but it all depends on you."  
"I want you to come up," the words were barely audible, and though they thrilled him, he couldn't help but make light of the situation.  
"Hmmm… You want me, or you want the delicious pizza that accompanies me?"  
"Shut up and come inside, DiNozzo," she said, hanging up. Tony frowned at the use of his surname – something he associated with her being angry – and the abruptness of her words, but he tried to shrug it off. Knowing that she may well be watching, he tried to walk calmly to the door of her building, despite his instincts to forget the pizza and bolt straight to her.

Ziva heard the tap at her door. Out of habit rather than necessity, she checked the spy hole before she opened her door, and giggled as she saw nothing but a pizza box from their favourite pizzeria. She stood aside as she opened the door, wordlessly letting him into her world. She smiled to herself as he walked past her for the second time that evening, followed him to the kitchen where he set down the pizza and set the oven to heat. She couldn't help but notice how easily he slipped through her home, how easily he fit in with her, how easily she could be around him. Without thinking about it, she floated towards him and wrapped her arms around him in an uncharacteristic need to be close to him.

Tony had been determined to talk things through whilst they waited for their food to reheat, but the second her arms were wrapped around him, his mind blank. He responded in kind, knowing that the tiny ninja in front of him would feel how hard his heart was beating being this close but not caring. He kissed her forehead, surprised to find that she tilted her face to him, her lips seeking his. It was delicate and uncertain, but getting to see Ziva like this thrilled him. He looked deeply into her mocha eyes and saw openly what she had been hiding for months: love. They barely moved within their tight embrace for ten minutes, until Ziva felt Tony push her ever so slightly away.  
"We should eat, it's been a long day," he whispered into her hair.  
"I know, I just don't want to let you go," she mumbled back, into his shirt. He chuckled in response.  
"You haven't figured it out yet have you? I'm here for as long as you'll have me, I'll still be here once you've eaten something," he grinned as he unwrapped her arms from his waist, parting from her just long enough to put the now cold pizza in the oven. She smirked at him.  
"Feta, pancetta and mushroom? You got my favourite?"  
"Only the best for you, my ninja," he winked at her.  
"Ninja?"  
"Yeah. If we're together, I need to call you something. You don't strike me as a "babe" kinda girl. You're my ninja," he smiled, having thought of her as his for years anyway. Ziva wrinkled her nose in disgust.  
"Well at least you know me better than to even consider calling me babe. Ninja it is, and you will be... my furry bear," she grinned, knowing he would remember the first time she had called him that. He did nothing but grin at her, and she looked at him, confused.  
"You didn't argue with us being together now," he said. She found herself robotically seeking his comfort again, needing his touch.  
"It's not going to be easy, you know," she whispered.  
"You know I have been in a relationship before, right?" He asked, sighing.  
"Yes, I know, but it was a long time ago."  
"Sometimes I just don't know what to say to you." Obviously frustrated, he moved from her to get plates out of cupboards.  
"I didn't mean it how it sounded, Tony," Ziva started. Tony did very little in response, apart from create extra clattering of cutlery. "I just meant that with Gibbs and the team, this isn't going to be a normal relationship, the number of times a week we could get hurt or killed, we'll be together all day every day. It's not normal and it will be difficult, whether we acknowledge it or not," she explained, exasperated. Tony bent into the oven to grab the pizza, then turned to face her. He ran his hands through his hair, frustrated, knowing that she was right.  
"You want to talk about that now? Or would you rather eat, and go to bed and enjoy our first night together, and worry about all the serious adult business tomorrow?" She giggled at him, half wondering how this man had turned an assassin into a woman who giggled.  
"Technically it's our second night together, but yes, let's talk tomorrow and just be with each other tonight."  
"It's our first night since we have decided to stop pretending that we're less than we are," he argued, handing her a plate. He sat across from her, a deadly serious expression across his features, "Besides, I am sure you once promised me you were a screamer. If memory serves, you weren't screaming last night. I'm going to have to work on that area." Ziva eyed him thoughtfully.  
"Yes, you might want to work on that," seeing his disappointed face, she sniggered, "I'm kidding, Tony. It was perfect."  
"God, you have no idea how much I want you right now," he whispered, his eyes dark with lust.  
"You got me hooked on pizza, you have to deal with the consequences," she retorted without missing a beat. He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed it lightly.  
"This is why you're the perfect woman, Zi," he said jokingly, though he meant every word. He ate faster than normal, and waited as she finished her slices. The moment she had swallowed her last bite, she found her plate had been whisked away and put in the dishwasher. Before she was aware of what was happening, she had been swept from her chair into Tony's arms as he picked her up, wrapping her legs around his waist. He planted butterfly kisses over every inch of skin that he could reach, walking in the direction of the bedroom He was vaguely aware that the woman in his arms was knocking the light switches off as he carried her past, but if he was honest, he didn't care. He just wanted to worship the woman he loved the best way he knew how.

* * *

All concrit is hugely appreciated. In case anyone is wondering, I know where this is going, and hopefully future chapters won't be quite so conversation-heavy. The rest of the team will start to appear a lot more soon as well, don't worry. :] Thank you so much for reading, please hit the review button because it really does make me type faster :]


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